


Yours

by Jackie_Gaytona



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Biting, Fluff, Holy Water, Jealousy, M/M, Masochism, Pain, Religious Icons, Sadism, Sliiiight Dubcon, Torture, blowjobs with crucifixes??, guillermo asserts his dominance big time, lots of glorious pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Gaytona/pseuds/Jackie_Gaytona
Summary: Sequel to “Mine” (Please read the tags first!). Guillermo is fed up with Nandor’s refusal to acknowledge their jealousy-fueled tryst in the shower. He decides it’s time to confront the vampire. Confrontation leads to sexy time, sexy time leads to hostility, hostility leads to fluff.Nandor surely knew he’d liked it. His meek little familiar liked being ruined; punished; hurt. The very thought made his cheeks flush bright pink – and the thought had pretty much taken up tenancy in his mind in the week since that night. A few times he’d almost gathered enough courage to confront Nandor about it, but then the anxious thoughts would creep back in: what if Nandor found it funny? What if he teased him about it, or even worse, humiliated him in front of the others? Would he do that? Would he make a farce out of their reckless intimacy? Or was he indifferent to the whole affair? Nandor was no stranger to wild sex, after all.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

> As per people's requests, here is the sequel to 'Mine'! I started this ages ago but finally got around to finishing it. Huge shout-out to Chelsfic for beta reading and being awesome and encouraging as usual! <333

Things were completely normal – if one’s idea of _normal_ was hanging precariously off a metaphorical cliff over a gaping, endless sinkhole of shame and denial.

The night was still young when the vampires received an important-looking letter. Guillermo was in his room, having just pulled on his coat, when the doorbell rang. As a last-minute decision, he opened the top drawer of his nightstand and snatched out a silver crucifix, rosary beads and a little bottle of holy water, stuffing them into the hidden pockets sewn into his coat. The house rarely saw visitors – and they certainly weren’t expecting any tonight – so it was better to be safe than sorry.

It was only the postman. Guillermo took the mail – a single cream-colored envelope embellished in gold trim – and went to wake his master. Once in the vampire’s crypt, he lit a couple of candles for light and gently tapped on the coffin lid.

“There’s a letter here for you. From a… Madame Essie Welch?”

He jumped back with a little squeak when the coffin lid flung open. Nandor all but leaped out of the casket and snatched the letter from Guillermo’s hands in one swift motion. His eyes lit up as he read the sender’s details on the back of the envelope.

“Ah,” he said with a grin. “Hurry and dress me, Guillermo! We have been waiting a long time for this message!”

“Oh?” Guillermo tried not to sound curious, but the high-pitched inflection in his voice betrayed him. He helped Nandor into a vest, ignoring the shiver that coursed down his spine as his fingers brushed the vampire’s sleeved arm. He’d become very good at ignoring his body’s reactions around his master lately.

“Madame Essie is a very ancient, very elite, very _beautiful_ member of the vampire community,” Nandor explained in a suspense-filled voice. “Her events are very exclusive. To be invited to one guarantees a position in the upper crust of vampiric society.”

“I see…” Guillermo said at length. He was focusing on the black buttons of his master’s vest, keeping his head – and his eyes – lowered. “And you think this is an invitation?”

“What else would it be, Guillermo?” Nandor huffed in a voice that once would have made Guillermo feel like an idiot, but now only made him feel empty. “A pamphlet for shoes?”

Guillermo was clasping his cape now. Unfortunately, that required him to come almost face-to-face with Nandor. He had managed to keep his cool during these intimate moments for the past week, so it was no big deal, right? Still, he couldn’t quite shake the intuitive anxiety that snaked into his stomach. He tried to take his mind off it. “It’s just that, what with the Vampire Council—”

“We don’t speak that name anymore, Guillermo!” Nandor admonished. “Are you almost done? Eugh, you’re taking too long. Here.” He slapped Guillermo’s trembling hands away and finished attaching the cape himself, his lips set in a thin line as he fumbled with the clasp, all the while trying not to crumple the letter in his palm. Guillermo stood back and reached for the brush, but Nandor stopped him with a hand. “Later, Guillermo! You have left me waiting too long. Come. We have an announcement to make.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Everybody, can I have your attention, please!” Nandor addressed everyone in the fancy room – which was Nadja, Laszlo and Guillermo. Their attention had already been focused on the vampire expectantly, and now Nadja rolled her eyes. The vampire couple were seated on the lounge in front of their head housemate. Guillermo stood beside his master, hands behind his back, trying his very hardest not to drift back to the one night he had been so dreadfully fixated on this past week. It was always worse when Nadja and Laszlo were nearby. He was sure he was only imagining the knowing looks they gave him, but he still couldn’t shake the paranoia.

“What’s in the envelope?” Laszlo asked around his pipe.

“That is what I need your attention for!” Nandor said loudly. “It is a letter from Madame Essie Welch!”

“Oh!” Nadja perked up immediately and gave a few little claps. “Is it really, Nandor? This isn’t one of your pathetic antics is it?”

“No, this is very much a _real_ letter,” Nandor said. “I stopped doing the pranks after I set Guillermo’s ugly shirt on fire, remember?”

“Good riddance,” Laszlo said with an approving nod.

Guillermo bristled.

“I will now open the letter,” Nandor announced redundantly. He slipped a finger under the flap and tugged at it a few times. “Almost got it,” he said eagerly. “Just one moment…I don’t want to tear it.” He tore it and growled. “Guillermo, will you open this for me?”

Guillermo took the envelope and opened it. Nandor snatched it back before his subservient familiar could even _think_ to touch its contents. The vampire unfolded the yellowed paper and held it at eye-level, squinting as he read. His grin grew wider and wider. Laszlo and Nadja were on the edge of their seat.

“Well?” Nadja hissed. “What does it bloody say?”

“Nandor!” Laszlo exclaimed in anticipation.

Nandor dropped his arm and beamed wider, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Guillermo wanted nothing more than to turn and just stare at that smile; there had been so few of them lately.

“It’s an invitation!” Nandor announced after a heartbeat. “To the bi-annual orgy! Hosted by Madame Essie Welch!”

Nadja all but squealed, and Laszlo gave a resounding “A-ha!” and slapped his thigh. All three vampires were fairly buzzing with excitement. Nandor read the letter to his companions, emphasizing the date and time (a week from now), and the location (Madame’s upstate New York manor).

Guillermo wanted to scream.

Since the night of their bizarre and extremely unexpected rendezvous, Guillermo had kept to their usual routine: waking Nandor after sundown; helping him dress into his archaic Persian finery; slipping gold rings onto his fingers; kneeling before him to help him into his boots, like the faithful servant he had always been. He checked the mail and dusted the furniture and scoured the web for virgins like he’d always done. He put up with Laszlo’s insults and Nadja’s orders. He mended clothes and polished shoes and scrubbed puddles of blood.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

At least at first. But the longer they went without discussing _that night_ , the more the nervous tension above their heads stretched out like some unsightly membrane. And by now it had stretched very thin. Guillermo found himself startling at every little sound; found himself unable to look Nandor in the eye. He was clumsier than usual, dropping things and stumbling and pulling Nandor’s hair with the brush. And these things would evoke the ire of his master, which in turn would make Guillermo sizzle with frustration. He was walking on eggshells, yet this wariness seemed to be one-sided. Nandor never once acknowledged that anything had happened between them. It seemed he was more than content to just forget about fucking his familiar raw in a frenzied fit of jealousy. And eventually Guillermo began to wonder if perhaps it had never happened at all; if maybe it had been some crazy hallucination.

But the pain the morning after had been _real_. Not only the pain that had made it difficult for him to walk for two days, but the pain in his chest, too. Shame and embarrassment, mixed with miserable longing, as if his heart had had the foresight to know that Nandor would deny everything. He had spent that first morning beneath the covers, face pressed into his pillow, unable to stop stream after stream of tears.

It wasn’t like Guillermo had hated it. It wasn’t as if he’d begged Nandor to stop. No; this sweet, bashful Catholic boy had _enjoyed_ it. He’d enjoyed the way Nandor’s fingernails had dug into the flesh of his arms, leaving crescent-shaped bruises. He’d enjoyed the searing pain of being taken in what was possibly one of the most uncomfortable ways to lose one’s virginity. He’d enjoyed Nandor’s ravaging bites. Even now the memory of the wounds on his neck and shoulder had his skin tingling. There were scars there; barely healed.

Nandor surely knew he’d liked it. His meek little familiar _liked_ being ruined; punished; hurt. The very thought made his cheeks flush bright pink – and the thought had pretty much taken up tenancy in his mind in the week since that night. A few times he’d almost gathered enough courage to confront Nandor about it, but then the anxious thoughts would creep back in: what if Nandor found it funny? What if he teased him about it, or even worse, humiliated him in front of the others? Would he do that? Would he make a farce out of their reckless intimacy? Or was he indifferent to the whole affair? Nandor was no stranger to wild sex, after all.

These worries had Guillermo keeping his conversations with the vampire strictly professional. If Nandor thought anything was amiss with his familiar, he hadn’t questioned him about it. Now upon hearing the news of the orgy, Guillermo’s composure was thin as tissue paper and falling apart. _He_ was falling apart. They couldn’t go on like this forever; it would drive him crazy. Something had to give.

And it did the following week.

It was Guillermo’s job to help prepare the vampires for the orgy. It was his job to order the costumes and the sex toys and book the limousine to the location (no use wasting all that energy flying when it could be used fucking). But he hated Nandor right now. And he hated holding his tongue. He’d held it firmly since the arrival of the letter, through all the vampires’ excited chattering and costume preparation and dildo-buying; swallowing down Nandor’s incessant raving like a bitter tonic. Tolerating it all. Allowing it to fill him with virulent contempt, while not enjoying a second of it.

He knew he was playing it close by waiting until the night of the orgy, but there was no other way. They should have spoken about this two weeks ago, but since Nandor didn’t even have the grace to look awkward around him – let alone acknowledge any part of their tryst had ever happened – Guillermo realized that words simply wouldn’t work. Nandor was a bull-headed, impetuous warrior of the Ottoman Empire: he understood actions far better than sentences. He would sooner run a sword through his enemy than listen to their surrender. He was a classic case of _act now, think never_. And Guillermo planned to act.

Tonight.

He tapped lightly on Nandor’s coffin. The sun had dipped below the horizon half an hour ago; Guillermo had needed some time to gather the courage to enter his master’s room. Nadja and Laszlo had already started preparing for the big night ahead. Laszlo had appeared from their crypt ready and raring to go, wearing fuck-me boots and a velvet robe of dark crimson. He continuously alluded to the fact that he wore _nothing_ underneath. Nadja had been strutting about the house in a skimpy piece of glittering lingerie when Guillermo snuck away to wake Nandor.

“Guillermo?” His master’s voice drifted up from inside the casket, muffled and drowsy. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Master,” Guillermo said softly. “It’s time to wake up.”

Nandor flung his coffin lid open and scrambled out, startling his already on-edge familiar. Once on solid ground, he rubbed his hands together, fangs flashing. “Orgy time!”

Was it cruel for Guillermo to help him dress, when he knew full well that there was _no_ way Nandor was making it to the orgy tonight? He considered this as he brushed the vampire’s hair, ignoring Nandor’s hisses when the bristles snagged on a tangle. Cruel, maybe, but not nearly as cruel as Nandor’s neglect had been these past two weeks. And he still needed a little time to boost his confidence; he couldn’t afford his hands to shake or his voice to tremble.

That little bit of time was up before he knew it. They stood in the fancy room, waiting as Laszlo stuffed considerably-sized dildos into a plush red bag. Nadja was nattering excitedly, and occasionally Laszlo would let out a grunt of acknowledgement. Guillermo’s stomach was doing flips. He’d left it too late. No…he hadn’t. He could still do this. He _had_ to do this. He couldn’t bear the thought of Nandor participating in an orgy while their own relationship dangled so perilously in the air.

Nadja was nearly bouncing with anticipation. “Are you almost done, darling? I don’t want to be late,” she said in an eager rush. “And if you bring any of your pornographic films, I _will_ behead you.”

“My pornos are second to none, sweet lady wife!”

“No, Laszlo! They are second to the worst I have ever seen.”

“Dear, jealousy does not suit you,” Laszlo said with a cheeky smile. Nadja recognized his dallying and she played along, gasping melodramatically.

Meanwhile, Nandor’s face was dreamy. He had picked out a clean, translucent blouse, and tight black trousers; minimal dress was preferable when you weren’t planning on keeping it on for long. And Guillermo had to admit, despite himself, that his master looked incredibly enticing. Several times during the torturous hour in which he’d prepared him for the occasion, he’d found himself dragging his gaze down Nandor’s chest, following the patch of dark hair there until it disappeared beneath the low ‘V’ of his loose collar.

“I can’t believe I’ll be bumping elbows—”

“— _And_ bumping uglies,” Laszlo supplied.

“—With all the vampire celebrities.”

“No,” Guillermo said. The word bounced off his tongue without a second thought. It threw itself across the room decisively. Strong and clear.

He did it. He actually did it.

The vampires looked at him in unison. They looked at him for a long time. Sweat prickled on Guillermo’s brow and his heart sped up – both innate reactions to a potentially embarrassing, possibly life-threatening situation. And yet, somehow, he was beyond caring what they thought.

“What do you mean, _no_?” Nadja scoffed.

Laszlo drew up the string on the bag, his brow knitted in contempt. “Do you really think you can command us about, Gizmo?” he demanded, and then shot Nandor a look. “You need to reel this boy in! If he were my familiar, I’d take him out back and cut off his bollocks for that.”

Guillermo’s face heated up. In the corner of his eye, he saw Nandor shooting daggers at him.

“Guillermo,” his master said darkly. “Is there something you want to say?”

The tension in the air snapped. Guillermo met Nandor’s eyes in a challenge; his lips set in a firm line; eyes blazing behind his glasses. His hands were trembling, but for once it wasn’t from nerves. He was _furious_.

“What, right here?” he snapped. He glanced at Laszlo and Nadja pointedly. Both vampires were still chafing from his outburst. Nandor didn’t take the hint. Of course he didn’t. He just stared expectantly at Guillermo. At least he had the brains to look uncomfortable.

Guillermo took a deep breath. This was it. The straw that would break the camel’s back. If Nandor could steal him away in a bout of jealousy, then surely Guillermo had a right to protest him prancing off to a massive orgy?

“You’re not going to the orgy,” he said resolutely, lifting his chin in a show of feigned bravado.

Nadja gaped at him. “What did you say?”

“Bugger off!” Laszlo spat.

“Not you two,” Guillermo snapped, turning on them for a split-second before settling his eyes back on Nandor’s taut features. He clenched his teeth and tried to tamper the growing unease in his stomach. It churned along with his anger and made him feel nauseous. “Nandor isn’t going,” he said firmly.

“Do you want me to go get my pruning shears?” Laszlo offered eagerly. “I haven’t seen a good castration in _at_ _least_ a century.”

Neither Nandor nor Guillermo were listening. They stared at each other with an intensity that was almost palpable, as if their eyes alone could continue this silent battle.

“Nandor!” Nadja shrieked. “Are you going to stand there looking like a dumb puffy fish or are you going to _do_ something about this insolence?”

“This is why familiars are no good,” Laszlo tsked. He slung the bag over his shoulder and looked at the clock on the wall. “Limousine will be here shortly. Coming, dear?”

Nadja straightened her back and trotted towards the door, showing her fangs in a snarl as she passed by Guillermo. “Come on, Nandor.” She tugged at the vampire’s pretty blouse.

“He’s not going,” Guillermo said. He secretly congratulated himself on the evenness of his voice. His tone was flawlessly casual, even under the furious stare from Nandor. That deathly look would have once cowed him, but at this point he had nothing to lose, right?

Nandor clenched his teeth, and Guillermo was sure that if the vampire could blush, he would be bright red by now…with anger _and_ with chagrin. “I’ll catch up with you,” he told Nadja, though his eyes were still glued on Guillermo’s.

“But the limousine—”

“It’s okay. I will go with Colin.”

Nadja groaned, but Guillermo’s heart did a little skip. There was no way Nandor would subject himself to that kind of torture, orgy or no.

“You may as well fly,” she grumbled. “It will be less tiring for you.” She gave Nandor a single pat on the shoulder, then hissed at Guillermo.

A moment later Laszlo shouted, “Limo’s here!” from the front of the house, and Nadja hurried out of the room. Guillermo went straight to the door and closed it, secretly thrilling in the resolute _click_ of the catch. He’d solidified his plan days ago; spending the past three sleepless nights mulling over it and strengthening it. He couldn’t back out now…the click of the door was final.

He steeled himself and turned around.

Nandor stood by one of the lounges, fists clenched at his sides, teeth bared in a silent grimace. Guillermo had seen that look a thousand times or more, and it no longer intimidated him. Nandor could do whatever he liked with him and it still wouldn’t sting as much as his disregard had these past two weeks.

“Sit down, Nandor,” he said in his bravest, most assertive voice.

A spark flashed in Nandor’s eyes momentarily and he snarled, rushing forward and stabbing a finger at him. “You _dare_ to speak to me like—”

“Sit down!” Guillermo shouted. He couldn’t remember a time he’d raised his voice to his master like this, and he didn’t know what to expect. Nandor’s entire stance changed then, and Guillermo saw the fearsome warrior that he had once been: broad and towering like a great monument, his face dark and statuesque, a predatory flare in his eyes. His brow was harsh, his lips set in a silent snarl.

He didn’t anticipate the violent shove, but suddenly Guillermo was stumbling backwards, flailing, trying to keep from falling on his ass. His side collided heavily with the sharp corner of an end table and he doubled over with a gasp. The shock of Nandor’s unspeakable action, mixed with the adrenaline that coursed through Guillermo’s veins, masked most of the pain. He looked up at Nandor, who regarded him with equal shock.

“Sit down,” Guillermo said again, quieter this time.

The soldier in him disappeared, and with a huff Nandor spun on his heels and went to the lounge. He sat down with a vexed grunt and glared. The vampire’s unexpected obedience gave Guillermo a rush of confidence though, and he approached him at once, before his nerves could get the better of him.

“Laszlo is right,” Nandor spat, voice dripping with venom. “I should take you out the back and—”

Guillermo came down on him suddenly and heavily, and Nandor yelped in surprise. He hadn’t been planning to straddle his master; to take him by the jaw and crush his lips against that confused frown, but he knew deep down that anything Nandor said would sting, and he couldn’t afford to lose his confidence. Not now.

He felt two large hands slide around to cup his backside, but at the same time Nandor tore his mouth away and snarled again. Guillermo tightened his grip on the vampires’ stubbly jaw.

“You’re not going to the orgy,” he said decisively, but his voice was softer now, because he was staring into Nandor’s eyes and Nandor was suddenly giving him that fucking puppy look…

Guillermo met his lips again, only this time it wasn’t a kiss. This time it was a _bite_. He caught Nandor’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugged on it, at the same time feeling another tug down between his legs. He let go and briefly felt Nandor’s lips follow him. The sight of the vampire’s closed eyes and pursed lips made Guillermo’s cock harden almost painfully, and there was no denying that his playing had kindled a desire in Nandor as well.

But he wasn’t here to make his master feel good. No; this was for _him_. He needed some kind of resolution after hanging off that cliff of shame and uncertainty for so long. He needed release.

“You can’t stop me from going,” Nandor said petulantly, as if in tune with his familiar’s thoughts. His voice was husky and it made Guillermo’s cock strain even more. He was teasing, but Guillermo couldn’t help the swell of jealousy that rose in his throat like bile. Nandor tilted his head back against the headrest of the chaise, his eyes still partly closed; and that was when Guillermo noticed that his arms were stretched out either side of him, slung limply over the chair’s armrests.

He took the shining opportunity. He’d never admit that he’d spent a good number of hours this past week perfecting the maneuver – even going as far as to watch YouTube tutorials – but he pulled it off without a hitch. In one swift motion, he plucked the handcuffs from a deep pocket in his coat, and in a fraction of a second had one end closed around Nandor’s wrist; the other end clicking shut around an armrest.

It wasn’t foolproof, of course. Nandor could turn into a bat. He could vaporize. He had immense strength that Guillermo was sure he’d never really seen the full extent of. But he was banking on the notion that the shock alone would keep Nandor where he was, and perhaps make him think twice about fleeing to the orgy.

Nandor’s eyes snapped open and he looked at his hand, then at the arm rest, and then at Guillermo, all the while gaping. “Where the fuck did you get handcuffs?” he yelled. Guillermo was expecting something completely different, and his question caught him off guard. But he wouldn’t let it unman him.

“You can buy anything online these days,” he said matter-of-factly, and then produced another set of handcuffs. Nandor actually _watched_ him perform the same maneuver on his other wrist, cuffing him to the opposite armrest. Guillermo worked efficiently, feeling the weight of Nandor’s part-seething, part-curious gaze.

“So you expect me to sit here tied up all night?” he whined. “You know I could break free any time I wanted!”

“Break free then,” Guillermo challenged, and he ground his hips down against Nandor’s lap. The vampire didn’t move; just stared at his familiar, wide-eyed and frowning, while shuffling uncomfortably in an attempt to hide the stiff rod in his trousers. Guillermo gave him a subtle _‘I thought so’_ smile, and then dipped his head down to kiss Nandor again, sucking on his bottom lip where he’d bitten not long ago. Nandor opened his mouth invitingly, and Guillermo couldn’t help but startle when he felt the slide of Nandor’s tongue across his own. The awkward little jump made Nandor chuckle, and Guillermo felt his resolve waver; felt that familiar heat seep into his cheeks.

So he went for the vampire’s neck, snatching up a bunch of skin and biting as hard as he could. Nandor bucked his hips and groaned, and Guillermo felt some of his confidence come rushing back.

“You want me,” he mumbled against the hollow of Nandor’s neck. He was momentarily surprised by his own audacity, and then Nandor made a displeased noise, but that only spurred him on. He slid off his lap, secretly delighting in Nandor’s quiet sounds of protest and the conspicuous bulge in his master’s trousers.

Slowly he knelt between Nandor’s knees. The vampire sprang forward, forgetting the cuffs for a moment in his enthusiasm, and made a pained noise when they pinched his wrists. “Guillermo,” he growled. There was a question in his voice, but Guillermo couldn’t deduce what it meant. His hands snaked up Nandor’s blouse and found the hem of his trousers, and the little bow of lace there.

Nandor sagged against the lounge and rested his head back. He really _was_ heaving now, his eyes closed, his lips parted a little; just enough to show his fangs. 

Guillermo worked at the lace. “The shower,” he said.

Nandor gave a quick frown and shuffled a little. “No thank you, I’m comfortable enough here.”

“We haven’t talked about the shower.”

The vampire sighed. “Has the water gone cold again?”

Guillermo bristled. He yanked harshly at a lace, unravelling the bow in one go. “You killed a vampire for _flirting_ with me,” he said, pulling Nandor’s trousers down to reveal the patch of dark curls underneath. “You fucked me raw in the shower. Took my virginity—” he gave the trousers a hard tug, prompting Nandor to lift his backside so his familiar could pull them further down. Guillermo ran a hand down the slit in Nandor’s pants, pulling at the fabric until the vampire’s cock sprang free. “You bit me _three times_. You could have killed me –”

“You enjoyed it,” Nandor hissed breathlessly.

“—And yet you still haven’t said a word about it.”

Nandor gave a little one-sided shrug, schooling his expression into one of stolidity. “What’s there to say?” he muttered. “I couldn’t just have you running off with some weird sexy vampire. You’re my familiar. A very disrespectful one at that.” The sharpness in his tone didn’t reach his eyes, which were unexpectedly soft. He reached out a hand and trailed his thumb over Guillermo’s cheek, so lightly that the man barely felt it. Then his hand came away, and the usual hardness was back in his eyes, as if he’d suddenly remembered himself. “You could have talked to me at any time,” he said defensively, his features contorting in a grimace. “Instead of running around pulling these… _tricks_ on me like a disobedient little boy.”

Guillermo wanted to roll his eyes. Instead he squeezed a fist around Nandor’s cock and the vampire jolted with an audible gasp. He didn’t tear his eyes away from his familiar though; eager to see what the man had in mind. Guillermo took him in his mouth, holding him firmly by the base to stop the vampire’s cock from jumping all over the place. He had to stifle a giggle; this wasn’t supposed to be _funny_. This was supposed to be payback. So why was he the one on his knees as usual?

He slid Nandor’s cock out of his mouth and kissed the tip just as their eyes locked. He flicked his tongue over Nandor’s slit and the vampire hissed and jolted again, and Guillermo couldn’t help his shrewd grin. He reached into a coat pocket and sneakily pulled out a long gold crucifix on a chain. The piece of jewelry held little significance to him…except for on this night. He tickled the base of Nandor’s cock with the fingers of his free hand as he kissed the length of him, occasionally stopping to bite and suck at the silky skin there, eliciting all sorts of wonderful noises from deep within the vampire’s throat.

Nandor was so lost in his own pleasure that he took no notice of the crucifix, and didn’t even react the first second or two, when Guillermo lightly brushed it over his cock, dangling it from his fingers. But then the pain must have found him, because he jumped a little.

“Guillermo! What the fuck is…” he trailed off upon spotting the crucifix. Guillermo wrapped the chain around his hand and rested the cross against his palm. The vampire’s gulp was audible. “Guillermo…” he said in a warning tone that was more alarmed than outraged.

Guillermo wrapped his chained hand around Nandor’s cock, exposing the vampire’s soft skin to the sacred icon. Nandor arched his back and grunted loudly, teeth clenched in a vain attempt to keep hidden the amount of pain he was in. Guillermo gave him a few short, squeezing tugs, while watching with sick curiosity as his master writhed in pain. He was biting down hard on his bottom lip, his fangs cutting into the flesh. Guillermo slid his hand away, noticing the way Nandor’s cock jumped at the loss of contact, as if in protest. Thin red welts coiled down his shaft, though they were quickly healing. Nandor glared daggers at Guillermo, but he couldn’t hide his lustful panting.

“If you _ever_ do that again,” he gasped, but left the sentence hanging. There was no need to finish it. Guillermo kept his expression cool and impassive as he unwrapped the chain and took the thin pendant in one hand. He ran more kisses up Nandor’s length and then took the head in his mouth, circling his slit with his tongue, probing; testing. His own cock strained in his pants, a tiny patch of wetness already soaking through his briefs. He took his mouth away and brought the crucifix to Nandor’s cock again. He felt the vampire’s thighs spasm around him in anticipation. He trailed the crucifix ever-so-lightly over the tip of Nandor’s cock, goading him. Nandor hissed but didn’t jump this time. His fists were clenched against the chair’s armrests but he watched intently. Guillermo drank in the sight before him: in the foreground a gleaming gold crucifix dangling on the tip of Nandor’s heavy cock; in the background, the vampire staring on in rapt anticipation, his face twisted in a grimace but his eyes aflame with desire; his chest rising and falling heavily. Guillermo gave him a coy smile and licked him once, then dipped the end of the crucifix into his slit.

“ _Fuck_!” Nandor howled in what sounded suspiciously like pleasure. Guillermo trailed his mouth over the side of Nandor’s cock, licking and sucking and nipping every inch except for the tip, where he taunted Nandor with the long end of the cross, sliding it in and out torturously slow. Nandor squirmed and groaned and mewled and at one point Guillermo wondered distractedly if he’d gone too far.

“Tell me to stop,” he said against the vampire’s cock, and the feel of his warm breath caused a noticeable shiver to trail down Nandor’s tense body.

“No,” Nandor growled.

_God_. Guillermo wanted nothing more than to give up this frivolous game and flip him over and fuck him until they were both blind with exhaustion. But he wanted to see this through; he wanted to give to Nandor what Nandor had given to him two weeks ago – and he was going to pay him back with interest.

As it was, Nandor seemed to be enjoying the crucifix a little _too_ much. Guillermo pocketed the icon, agitated. He took Nandor in his mouth again, lashing him with his tongue, sucking him as far back into his throat as he could, all the while scraping him with his teeth. Nandor couldn’t keep still. It was clear he was trying; he didn’t want to admit to himself the kind of effect this menial human servant had on him. But then Guillermo reached into his pocket and drew out a much larger, thicker, _silver_ crucifix, and Nandor grunted loudly and swung his arms forward, causing the armrests of the lounge to groan under the sudden pressure of the handcuffs.

“Get these fucking things off me, Guillermo!” he roared, clenching his fists again.

“Not yet,” Guillermo breathed. The unperturbed look on his familiar’s face seemed to infuriate Nandor even further. Guillermo got to his feet and straddled him again, and Nandor fell back against the lounge and groaned in defeat. His eyes went immediately to the cross that his sweet familiar held: plain but thick; glaring silver. It took up most of the man’s palm. He flinched away when Guillermo grabbed the hem of his blouse, instinctively sucking his gut in. Guillermo leaned forward and kissed him passionately, confidently; his tongue searching out Nandor’s in a sure, practiced way that was a stark contrast to his usual shyness.

He kept his lips on Nandor’s as he brought the cross down onto the vampire’s skin, just above the V of his groin. Nandor arched his back and hissed, matching the sizzling noise that rose from his abdomen, his exposed cock hard and crushing against Guillermo’s own bulge. To his surprise, Nandor’s mouth only became more frenzied, his tongue lashing at Guillermo’s. He was growling: a deep, husky rumble that sent Guillermo into overdrive. He was hardly even aware of the action of his hips as he gyrated in Nandor’s lap, overcome with pleasure, separated only by his trousers and a burning silver cross.

Eventually Nandor pulled his lips away and gasped, “Enough.”

Guillermo removed the crucifix, revealing an angry red welt. It would be gone in a matter of seconds of course, and for some reason that crushed him. He undid the buttons of Nandor’s blouse slowly and teasingly, then ran the cross up his master’s torso, just above his skin, careful not to touch him. Nandor’s writhing made it trickier, but when he reached the spot above the vampire’s unmoving heart, he pressed it down again. Nandor arched, stretching his neck back and squeezing his eyes shut, jolting as if electrocuted. He stifled a pained howl. Guillermo leaned into him, pressing the crucifix into his chest and catching the skin of his neck in his teeth again.

He sucked and pulled and nipped, marking him there while the crucifix branded him in a different way. Again, he lamented the fact that his marks wouldn’t survive long. In his pleasure-fueled delirium, he thought of how befitting that was – a symbol of his limited control over Nandor. It wasn’t going to last forever…or very long at all, most likely. Who knew what consequences this night would bring about? He was going to make the most of it.

Had this been something from his dreams, Guillermo would have surely come by now, just as disgracefully as the countless nights he’d woken up from a dream about Nandor, only to find his cock flagging and his briefs soaked through. Tonight, though, he was in control. He was filled with enough giddying fury to stave off the building waves of pleasure and keep himself in check.

“Guillermo,” Nandor hissed, the cold breath against Guillermo’s ear snapping him back into reality. He pulled the crucifix away and tossed it to the floor, eliciting a poorly-concealed sigh of relief from his master. His face softened a little; the lines of pain smoothing out as he let his gaze linger on his familiar. But a moment later his face hardened again, his lips rising in a silent snarl. He clenched his fists, the tendons in his wrists sticking out as though he was finally readying himself for escape. “Take that fucking coat off,” he ordered.

Guillermo didn’t bother hiding the smirk that came to his face as he thought of his next move. Just this once he decided to obey his pettish master, and shrugged the coat off – not before snatching a tiny vial of holy water from one of its deep pockets. Nandor didn’t miss the subtle movement, nor the shine of glass.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he growled. Guillermo smiled sweetly in response and straddled him, uncorking the little vial with his teeth. Before Nandor could get another word in, his familiar had put the vial to his lips and tipped its contents into his mouth. When he looked down at his master, Nandor’s eyes were smoldering with lust…and something darker. He met Guillermo’s lips before Guillermo had the chance to initiate the kiss, and the man growled at the loss of control. The holy water flowed out of his mouth and into Nandor’s. The vampire swallowed it down with strangled moans, bucking his hips against his familiar’s hardness. The cuts on his lips were healed now, but Guillermo still picked up the sour tang of faint blood. Nandor’s breath was suddenly hot, his throat scorching from the blessed water.

He was enjoying this too much. Whatever unpleasantness the pain had brought him moments ago was now gone. Guillermo hated him for it. He bit down hard on Nandor’s bottom lip, but his teeth weren’t sharp enough to break the skin. Nandor let out another heady moan, and Guillermo involuntarily ground his hips against the bulge at his lap. The burning anger that spread through his body was far more intoxicating than any pleasure he’d ever felt. Every nerve was a candlewick, each one ending in a tiny flame that begged for release; release from this torture.

Without thinking he reached into his back pocket and produced the keys to the cuffs. He pressed down further into Nandor’s lap, deliberately, and reached out to undo each cuff. The metal shackles had chafed Nandor’s skin raw, but moments after his release, the wounds began to heal. Guillermo longed to leave a permanent mark on him. Something that would brand the vampire as _his_.

He didn’t miss the predatory glint in Nandor’s eyes as he was freed from his confines. But the vampire was so quiet, so _calm_ in those brief moments, that Guillermo never would have guessed that a second later he’d be thrown to the floor and straddled by a snarling, black-eyed beast. Nandor’s fangs came down hard on the slope of his neck, biting into him with such force that for a moment Guillermo was paralyzed. The first waves of burning pain came to him as his blood began to spill. His body moved of its own accord and he thrust his hips upwards, searching for something… _anything_ … to relieve the unimaginable ache in his groin.

But then his brain caught up with the situation and he used all his strength to push Nandor off. The skin of his neck pulled against Nandor’s fangs, and Guillermo sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation. Then the vampire was stumbling back. He hit an end table and it went down with a crash, shattering the old lamp that had spent the past sixty years calling the table home. Guillermo was on his knees in an instant, hurtling forward, until he had his master pinned. Any other time, Nandor’s unneeded but innate panting would have stirred an affectionate desire in him; instead, he was filled with even more rage. Because it was just one more reminder of his own mortality. His own pathetic lack of control over his life.

Nandor was an animal beneath him – black eyes blazing, lips stretched back to reveal his lengthened fangs – but Guillermo felt _feral_. He put all his weight into the hook, his fist hitting Nandor squarely in the jaw. Nandor’s head ricked to the side. Something in his neck cracked. But he was up again in an instant, throwing Guillermo down, turning the tables on him once more.

Only this time Guillermo was ready. Nandor in his wild state hadn’t noticed his familiar duck a hand under his discarded coat as he was flung to the floor. He readied his fangs for another bite, but it was never delivered. He was stopped in his tracks by the sharp point of a long wooden stake. Guillermo held it firmly over the vampire’s dead heart.

Nandor looked down at it and grimaced. “Hey! Too far, Guillermo!” The black in his eyes began to dissipate, his pupils shrinking until the whites returned.

Guillermo lifted his head to kiss him, using the action as an excuse for digging the stake in further. Nandor broke the kiss an instant later, but he didn’t move away. Instead he watched, as if fascinated, as Guillermo trailed the stake down his chest, drawing a line of thick blood. When he moved the stake to the side and crossed the bloody line with it, creating a crude crucifix, Nandor bit back an agonized moan. Guillermo leaned forward and licked the bitter, coppery blood from the wound. But even that would be gone soon. Again he was filled with lustful anger, which only worsened when his master looked at him with a knowing glint in his eye.

Guillermo lifted the stake and pointed it at Nandor’s throat. “Get off me,” he hissed. The mischievous glint didn’t leave Nandor’s eyes as he obeyed. As if knowing what would come next, he sat back on his haunches and waited, regarding his familiar with a mix of amusement and smoldering desire. Guillermo got to his feet, keeping the point of the stake pressed against the hollow of Nandor’s throat as he positioned himself directly in front of his master. He felt a little woozy at first. Blood dripped from the wound in his neck, while the blood within him pooled into his groin.

He dropped the stake and unzipped his jeans, desperate to finally free his straining cock. Once he was blissfully free, he grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of Nandor’s head and forced the vampire’s mouth open with the tip of his cock. It was all he could think of – the final thing he could do to mark his master – and _it_ wouldn’t last, either.

He fucked Nandor’s mouth without restraint, ignoring the scrape of teeth against his shaft. He filled his master’s throat, which expanded and constricted as if it were made to pleasure him. Nandor’s fangs bit down on the mound of hairy flesh at the base of his dick and Guillermo jolted and quickened his pace. He was barely aware of the obscene moans that rippled from his throat; or the fact that the door had opened and they were being watched by two pairs of wide, shocked eyes.

That was until Laszlo exclaimed, “What the ever-loving fuck!?”

Guillermo met Laszlo’s gaze with an intensity that made the vampire snap his mouth shut. He pulled out of Nandor’s mouth with a lewd grunt and jerked the vampire’s head back by the hair. He pumped his cock with his free hand as his climax overcame him with dizzying intensity, painting Nandor’s face with ribbons of thick, hot semen. Watching Nandor take his come with closed eyes, his face completely calm, his lips partly open, seemed to only fuel his orgasm on and on until Guillermo thought he might black out. Eventually he let out a ragged breath and wiped his cock over Nandor’s cheek, marking him one final time.

Then he tucked himself into his trousers and shot a deathly glare at their stunned intruders. “What are you doing here?” he snapped, his voice husky and breathless.

Nadja’s face was contorted in a grimace, but morbid curiosity meant she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Laszlo at least had averted his eyes…to stare in bewilderment at the smashed furniture and various vampire-slaying weapons scattered over the floor.

“Madame Welch got the date wrong on the invitation,” he said distractedly.

“Stupid senile bitch!” Nadja spat, as if in reflex.

Guillermo adjusted his glasses on his nose and approached them. He didn’t miss the way they shrunk back. He felt almost powerful.

“Good,” he uttered, and gestured to his kneeling master. “You can help Nandor clean this mess up.”

*******

**Epilogue**

Guillermo couldn’t sleep through all the tears. The adrenaline was long-gone and he felt painfully empty. The post-orgasm fatigue was absolute. He was aching all over and he felt woozy from blood loss. He’d been laying in bed, wide awake but exhausted, into the early hours of the morning. Now it was 4am…not long until sunrise. He wondered what Nandor was doing. He wondered what Nandor was _thinking_.

He’d lost control tonight. Over a decade of pent-up anger, made worse by their recent tryst, by Nandor taking him so cruelly, had come gushing out of him like a jet of red-hot fury. He’d gone too far. His heart constricted with anguish. Would he ever be able to look at Nandor again without dying of shame? Would Nandor want him around? Laszlo and Nadja…Guillermo had a feeling that they’d keep quiet about what they’d witnessed last night, and for some reason that made him feel even worse.

But the most painful part of all of this was that Guillermo had no claim to Nandor. His master had marked him with bite-shaped scars that were still healing, and that would probably never fully fade. Guillermo had no way of doing the same. It wasn’t the physical aspect that hurt him so much but the symbolism behind it. Nandor would always own him; the devoted familiar would stay by his side until his dying day. But Nandor could never be Guillermo’s. On the very unlikely chance that the vampire wanted a relationship with him, he would still have to share. Nandor would belong, however briefly at a time, to the vampires at orgies. To his victims. To Nadja and Laszlo.

Guillermo almost didn’t hear the creaking of his bedroom door, as lost in drowsy, bitter thought as he was. But his body still tensed, even before his brain could register what was happening. When his bedside lamp switched on, he bolted upright, eyes wide, his thoughts going straight to the stake he kept wedged between his bed and nightstand.

The last person he expected to see standing there was Nandor. But he was there, hanging back in the shadows, his eyes glinting with uncertainty. Guillermo wanted nothing more than to reach out his arms; to hold him, to apologise for…whatever had come over him tonight. Instead he stared back with shimmery-wet eyes. His cheeks were red and streaked with tears.

After a moment, Nandor stepped forward and seated himself on the edge of Guillermo’s bed. Guillermo gingerly crept back beneath the covers. Storm clouds weighed heavy and swollen over his head. His stomach was filled with stones; his heart a deadweight.

“Would it have made you feel better if I’d pretended not to enjoy it?” Nandor’s voice was quiet and hoarse, but it still rang in Guillermo’s ears like a shrill bell. He sounded sheepish. Guillermo gaped at him, taken aback.

“What? No!” he cried, before willing his voice to calm. “It’s just…I wish you had even the _slightest_ idea of what you do to me.” He felt more tears sting his eyes and he quickly sniffed them back. The weight was lifting from his heart like floodgates. “I hate that I love you, Nandor. I hate that I envy you and that I’ve always wanted to _be_ you and I know that I never will be and that I’ll never be with you which is the closest thing I’ll ever get to—”

“Guillermo.” Nandor stopped him gently, sliding a hand over his familiar’s trembling shoulder.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Guillermo sniveled. _You know exactly what came over you._

“Did you at least enjoy yourself?” Nandor asked, not unkindly.

Guillermo wanted to hide his face beneath the covers. He was unable to keep the tears at bay any longer. Thick, salty rivulets ran down his cheeks and into his lips, and his nose became clogged. He was pathetic. But Nandor’s expression was gentle, almost adoring.

“I wish I had,” Guillermo said finally, his voice shaky. “I was angry.”

Nandor shuffled around to face him better. He seemed to be deliberating, his eyes flickering down at Guillermo’s thick quilt and back up to his face. Guillermo _knew_ he was looking too far into his master’s expression, but to his shock, when he pulled the covers back, Nandor climbed in beside him. They faced each other now in the dim amber light, the blanket covering their chins.

“Why were you angry?” Nandor asked. If it weren’t for the tenderness in his tone, Guillermo would have let out a sardonic laugh. Instead he sniffed back more tears.

“You left your mark on me. You scarred me,” he explained, though he probably sounded inane. “But you heal too quickly for me to do the same. I want you, Nandor. More than anything else…even more than being a vampire. But I can’t claim you. I can’t leave my mark on you.”

“My Guillermo,” Nandor chuckled, his voice silky and soft and full of amusement. It sent shivers up Guillermo’s spine. “You left your mark on me long before I left mine on you.” He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. “You can’t see it, but it’s there.”

Guillermo’s chest felt about ready to burst. He swallowed down the trepidation that was quickly rising in his throat. “Even after tonight?”

Nandor raised an eyebrow. “ _Especially_ after tonight.” He wrapped his arms around Guillermo, pushing him firmly against his chest. “You are mine, Guillermo. Now and always. I thought that was fucking clear the moment I stopped your little knee-trembler with _Lee-stat_.”

Guillermo wanted to throttle him. Instead he allowed himself a secret smile, reveling in the strange, warm calm that washed over him. “It’s Lestat,” he teased. “And the only knee-trembling I did was with _you_.” 

Nandor stuck his nose in Guillermo’s hair and inhaled his scent. His blood still clung to its virginal aroma, but it was quickly fading. Still, the new scent that was taking over wasn’t unpleasant. Nandor had proudly made that scent…and he wanted to be the only one to ever fully appreciate it.

He nuzzled his cheek against Guillermo’s hair and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth and the smell of his sweet, delectable, violent lover. “I am yours,” he said.


End file.
